Chapter 32 His Dying Breath

Ophelia's spine went hard at the sound of a woman's voice. Who was that?

"I'm going to have her locked in a tower," Killorn growled under his breath. He shoved his wife behind him, just as furious knocking was heard from the doors.

"You dragged me back from the forest, but lock yourself in the room with your wife?! Give me a break!"

Ophelia jumped at the loud noise. She had never heard a woman scream this deafening before. Did her lungs not hurt?

"Is she too loud for you?" Killorn reached behind him to feel her grip onto his shirt tightly. It was then he realized she was trembling again. This time, not from the cold, but from fear.

Killorn scowled. That darn irritable thing! He was irked by Maribelle's insistent screaming. He turned to his trembling wife whose face turned red and she stared up at him accusingly. Ah, was it because she was practically naked? Her cheeks were red as strawberries. Cute.

"I-I must get dressed," Ophelia rushed out before he could even grab her. He watched as she threw the door open, relief flooding her eyes. She slipped inside to grab a gown, but the pounding on the metal frame outside ever ceased.

Ophelia scrambled to tie the ribbons behind her. She wanted to look presentable, but Killorn was already opening the doors without waiting for her. Her head was in shambles. She heard his loud footsteps approaching the bedroom entrance. She stiffened, wondering why he didn't give her enough time.

"W-wait—" Too late.

"You're going to dent my doors at this point!" Killorn sharply barked at the person. He didn't want to further upset his wife with all the noise, for he knew she was susceptible to loud ones like this. He was worried she'd develop a headache.

"There you are!" A feminine voice cried out just as the doors slammed open. "Are you done assaulting your wife or should I wait downstairs for you?"

"Maribelle, you—"

"I hear she's human. Is it true?"

"If you let me finish speaking, I'll tell you," Killorn hissed.

"Who'd want to hear you talk?" Maribelle snorted whilst rolling her eyes.

"I should have you hung from your tongue," Killorn growled, irritated by just the sound of her voice. Some men had an unhealthy obsession with this kind of relationship like Maribelle.

Killorn, on the other hand, was a heartless beast whipped by his father until he lacked emotions. Love and affection were not something he was capable of.

"Brute," Maribelle muttered. "It is a miracle you even managed to find a bride with that stubborn nature of yours. You know, noble sons usually do not speak as brutally as you—"

"Just get out."

"You have no manners!" Maribelle bickered.

"Last time I checked, no one gave a shit." Killorn slammed the door in her face, but she kicked her feet through the cracks.

"Get out!" Killorn hissed, but she forced herself against the framing. "Get your annoying paws off of my hinges."

"Let me see the human!" Maribelle cried out, putting her entire weight against it. "I hear she's a fr—"

"You finish that sentence and I'll gut you like an animal myself!" Killorn roared, reaching through the small crack to grab her. How dare this little creature attempt to insult his precious wife? What did she dare to say?

"—fragile woman!" Maribelle shouted at him. "What did you think I would say about her? I have manners unlike you."

"If you have manners, then I did not win the war," Killorn deadpanned.

Maribelle gawked at him in disbelief. She saw his smug smirk. She let out a gasp, raising two fingers in an attempt to stab his eyeballs. If he didn't stop looking at her like that, she'd really kick him even if he was the damn Alpha.

"Now get out." Killorn jabbed his foot against hers and kicked her off the equipment. Maribelle cried out in frustration, but he slammed the doors shut right in her face.

Killorn ran a frustrated hand through his hair. He sharply exhaled from his nose when he heard her aggravating kick.

"At least tell me Gerald is home."

Killorn gritted his teeth. "He died at war!"

"Lies!"

"And his dying breath is to never see you again!" he barked.

"How can a dead man even see me? At least lie better!"

Killorn nearly threw his doors open again, but was met with silence. He paused, once, twice, then narrowed his eyes. She was setting a trap for him. He was certain that sneaky little thing was hiding outside, waiting for him to pounce.

"Brat." Killorn didn't regret many things in life. But the decision to have Maribelle dragged from the forest back to the estate was something he wished didn't happen. Now, he had to deal with the consequences of the irritable woman.

Killorn slammed the doors shut, grumbling to himself in frustration. This irritating thing, he should've not let her come back early, and let her stay out her miserable days in the forest.

All the whilst he hissed and complained under his breath, Ophelia's mind began to spiral.

Killorn had a mistress.

Ophelia should've known that the second she overheard the name "Maribelle" leave his mouth. He wanted Cora to bring her back to the castle. For what? So that he could have the mistress live in the adjoined room, to be ravished whenever Ophelia couldn't satisfy him? Her heart ached.

Ophelia anticipated there would be another woman. Her husband was unaccompanied by his wife for two years. It was ample time for him to find a woman to warm his bed in his military tents. Did he hold her the same? Did he caress Maribelle's hair whilst kissing her on the forehead?

Where else did Killorn's lips touch? Did he kiss Maribelle on the lips and tell her he loved her? Did Killorn do all the things he never did with Ophelia?

As these thoughts filled Ophelia's mind, her heart grew heavier. In fact, thorns of envy spread across her chest. She laid on her side and closed her eyes in defeat. How was she going to win against a lively woman like Maribelle, one who gave Killorn a challenge?

"Ophelia."

Ophelia jumped. Her head snapped to him, resembling a deer caught at an arrow's head. She stared at him, not sure what to even say. Her mouth was dry as a cotton. How does one approach the mistress situation with a husband? She was never taught this aspect. Except, Matriarch Eves did give her one piece of advice.

If a man has a mistress, it is for a reason. It is your duty as a wife to turn a blind eye, but make sure that wench isn't the first to give birth.

Give birth. Give birth. Ophelia didn't want to use a child as leverage. In fact, despite being instilled to her that her duties as a woman was to be pregnant and give her husband plenty of heirs, Ophelia couldn't wrap her mind around it.

"I-I uh…"

Ophelia blinked. Was he too embarrassed by the sight of her? Was that why he didn't wait for her to get dressed first? Did he not want her to see his mistress just yet? Ophelia touched her ugly hair and then her eyes. If only there was something she could do about it…